


At The FBI Ball

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, FBI Ball, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 05:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: Mulder and Scully attend the FBI Ball after their reinstatement as agents.





	At The FBI Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Post-S10  
> A/N: Why not? Inspired by avocadoave.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Rating: PG-13  
Author’s Note: Part One? Maybe? Anyway, I couldn’t wait. All praise to @avocadoave for that manip. It’s been so long I don’t even know what my headers look like anymore. 

Scully fumbled her keys out of her clutch and turned to lock the door of her apartment. She didn't stay there all the time anymore, since she and Mulder had gotten back together, but she kept it anyway. A safety net, insurance, a place to be alone for a day or two: it felt like an adult decision. Besides, here her clothes didn't have to jostle for space with Mulder's, which mattered when it came to a green velvet dress that went all the way to the floor. 

The keys jangled in her hand as she tried to sort through them without scratching her manicure. She finally got the door locked and slipped her keys back into her clutch, shrugging the shoulders of her trench coat back into place as she turned.

At the curb waited a black limousine, the windows tinted impossibly dark.

Scully froze. 

The door of the limo swung open.

She didn't move for a long moment, weighing her options, and then curiosity overcame her. She took two brisk, business-like steps toward the limo, steady as a rock on her elaborate heels, and ducked her head to glance into the limo.

"Champagne?" Mulder deadpanned, holding out a flute full of bubbly.

She sighed. "Yes, please, thank you."

"Did you like my Tad impersonation?" he asked, steadying her as she climbed in and situated herself, and then handing her the glass.

"Not even a little," Scully told him. 

"What if I had been Tad?" Mulder asked, pouring himself some champagne.

"I would have politely requested that you go to hell, and if you stuck around, I would have stabbed you with my shoe." Scully beamed at Mulder and batted her eyes at him.

He chuckled. "That's the Scully I know and love."

She raised her glass. "Here's to a completely normal evening."

"Come on, Scully," Mulder said, tipping his glass to meet hers, "is the FBI ball ever a completely normal evening?"

"Maybe this time," she said, and sipped her champagne.

The limo slid through the streets of DC as if the streets were greased, swift and nearly silent. They went easy on the champagne, chatting amiably as if they hadn't seen each other the day before, retreading the well-worn tracks of their usual topics of conversation. The driver didn't try to speak to them, and the hush in the passenger compartment was almost velvety. Scully leaned back into the seat and enjoyed the luxury, trying not to imagine fifteen different ways the driver might have been suborned into a variety of national or international cabals bent on delivering them into the hands of their co-conspirators. The champagne helped distract her, and Mulder's hand on her knee helped too. 

The Bureau had rented out the ballroom of a local hotel. Light poured out across the sidewalk, golden and gleaming. Mulder offered Scully an arm as they walked into the lobby. She took a moment to give him a long and careful onceover before she accepted. She'd seen Mulder in a tux a number of times, but he always made an impression.

"Shall we?" he asked.

"Why the hell not?" she retorted, and took his arm.

The ballroom was decorated in a surprisingly tasteful scheme. Agents in formal dress mingled and eddied around the edges of the room, leaving the center floor open for dancing. Scully handed Mulder her clutch as they stepped up to the coat check. She unbuttoned her trench coat slowly, pausing before she slipped it off her shoulders and handed it to the attendant, a young woman whose dark eyes widened appreciatively as she gazed at Scully. 

"Uh," Mulder said. 

Scully smirked to herself. The green velvet had been a daring choice, an homage of sorts to their early days in the fashionblind 90s, but it was certainly updated by the adventurous neckline and the frankly daring panel of lace that covered almost her entire back. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at Mulder, who still seemed stunned.

"Damn, Scully," he said. "That's a hell of a dress."

"This old thing?" she said loftily. 

"Just got it out of storage, huh?" he asked, taking her arm again.

"Basic black just wasn't called for tonight," she said. "I'm out of uniform."

"Oh, you will be," he murmured.

They drank. They danced. They even chatted amiably with their colleagues. The intervening decades had made Mulder's fringe views more mainstream and his conspiracy theories had transformed from paranoia to common knowledge. Yes, of course, there were shadow governments that controlled and plotted against the people of the world. Yes, absolutely, corporations were willing to poison people. Kuru in Arkansas? Commonplace. Bigfoot? Saw him at the natural foods store last week buying organic granola. Alien retrovirus? Wouldn't be the weirdest thing my kid's picked up at school this year.

It was strange and refreshing. Mulder put his hand possessively on Scully's back and nobody said a thing. People even smiled at them. The band played jazz standards and slow dreamy numbers. 

"Are we in a parallel dimension?" Scully whispered.

"I thought we were back in Arcadia," Mulder said.

"Not yuppie enough," Scully said. "Giant mushroom?"

"The sequels are never as good," Mulder said. "If you melt into ooze, I'll let you know."

"Thank you," Scully said. 

"Another drink?" he offered. 

"Why not?" she said, tipping her head back and letting her eyes sparkle at him. "I'm not driving."

Mulder leaned forward. "I'm enjoying this dreamscape," he whispered in her ear, his lips just barely grazing her skin. She shivered. The set of his shoulders looked smug as he sauntered away toward the bar, hands in his pockets. She stood by herself at the little table, alone but not isolated, and thought briefly about checking her email on her phone out of habit. Instead, she looked around the room and caught the gleam of light on a familiar bald head.

"Assistant Director Skinner, I presume," she said.

"Agent," he said. 

"This is quite the event," she said. 

"You could say that," he said in that grumbly voice she'd heard so often as he looked over another fantastical report.

"Not enjoying yourself?" she asked. 

"May I have this dance?" Skinner asked, not quite looking at her.

"Of course," she said. 

He held out his hand and she let him escort her onto the dance floor and into his arms. The band was playing an upbeat number. She wasn't sure what they were doing could really be classified as dancing, but they moved to the music. 

"You look...nice," Skinner said.

"Walter, it's a good thing I've known you long enough not to take offense at that pause," Scully said dryly.

His cheeks colored slightly. "I just meant you look nice."

"Yes, you've said," Scully teased him. 

"We don't usually see each other in situations like this," he said, automatically scanning the room over her shoulder.

"No, we don't," she agreed. "Anyway. You look nice too."

He smiled down at her. "We clean up all right."

"Can I cut in?" Mulder said, appearing at her elbow with a drink in each hand.

"No, I don't think so," Skinner said, spinning Scully away slightly. 

She shrugged at Mulder, raising her eyebrows. "Looks like you've already got your hands full."

"That makes two of us," Skinner joked. 

"Making a move on my girl, Walter?" Mulder said, his smile easy but that muscle jumping at his jawline.

"That's up to her," Skinner said, dipping Scully dramatically.

"Scully?" Mulder said.

"He asked," she said, still upside down. Skinner swept her back upright. She watched Mulder's face as he took in her mussed hair and flushed cheeks. He would want to prove to her later why he was the one she'd chosen. That was more than all right with her.

"You can have the next dance," Skinner said. "Don't worry, Mulder, I saved you a spot on my dance card."

"That's all I ever wanted, sir," Mulder said, but there was an edge to the humor in his voice. He retreated to their table to set down the drinks and lurked at the edges of the floor. 

"I didn't know you had it in you, sir," Scully said.

"Yes, you did," he said, smiling to himself.

"Well," she said. "I had a suspicion."

"I would expect nothing less from an agent of your caliber," he said, the smile reaching his eyes. 

The song ended a minute or two later. Skinner kissed her on the cheek and held out his arms to Mulder, who reluctantly stepped into them, and they two-stepped cordially around the floor as Scully sipped at her vodka and tonic and memorialized the event with her phone camera. Skinner walked back to the table with Mulder on his arm.

"I brought him back safe and sound," he said. Mulder's face was sulky, but less than it had been.

"I appreciate your diligence, Assistant Director," Scully said. She handed Mulder his drink. "You look a little hot under the collar. This will cool you down."

Skinner grinned. "Agents. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That covers a multitude of sins and then some," Mulder said, lifting his whiskey sour to his lips. 

Skinner smirked and shrugged. "Perks of the job."

"Have a good night," Scully said.

"You too," Skinner told her, and melted into the crowd of black jackets. 

"Green looks good on you, Mulder," Scully said, gently bumping her shoulder against his.

"Not as good as it looks on you," he mumbled. 

"You don't really think I'd go home with Skinner," she murmured, letting her fingers trail over the soft exposed skin of his wrist.

"I've always entertained extreme possibilities, Scully," Mulder told her.

"If we can find a quiet corner, I can think of a few more for you to entertain," she said. 

"Scully, are you coming onto me?" he murmured, delight in his voice. 

"Stranger things have happened," she said, and took his hand. "Come on. We'll go and find the shadows for once, instead of the other way around."

"Please don't let this be a mushroom-induced hallucination," Mulder said as if it were a prayer, and they walked away from the crowd hand in hand.


End file.
